Comedies End With a Wedding
by Saint Bacchus
Summary: When northern raiders send a princess as a peace offering, no one is sure what to think - especially since she doesn't speak a word of English. Is this yet another strike at the heart of Camelot, or the beginning of happily ever after? Uther/OFC
1. Northmen Bearing Gifts

"Damnable northmen," growled Uther Pendragon, as he stalked to and fro, punctuating each step with a curse. Morgana watched him, growing more tired by the moment. She would have escaped to the church for a little peace and quiet, but she had already spent so much time there it was bordering on indecorous. Any more and she'd have to take orders.

For the past month, raiders from the northlands had been attacking Camelot's harbors. Because they were so far from the castle town, they were not as well protected as the interior lands. Uther was not willing to give up the coast, nor could he come to any agreement with the savage northmen. None of them spoke any civilized tongue, not that they seemed to care much for talk in any case. They sailed out of the north, took what they wanted, and left a ravaged town behind for Uther to clean up.

The two sides had been picking at each other, each hoping to wear the other down, with the only result being an ever-larger pile of corpses on both sides. The fishermen and farmers on the coast begged Uther to protect them, sending as much - and more - food as they could afford to Camelot. But in truth, Uther's only reservation was leaving his castle exposed. He couldn't send his full force so far out without creating an opportunity for his enemies to exploit.

Yet, the situation could not stand as it was, so Uther finally committed his full contingent of knights to beat back the invaders once and for all. The lesser security forces would suffice for a short time, or so he hoped. In the meantime, he was walking on daggers until the knights' safe return, and so was everyone around him.

Finally, a page arrived in the council chambers to announce that the knights had returned. Arthur followed him in, looking cocky as usual. After assuring his father that all had gone well, he haltingly admitted that there was one small issue.

"We captured one of their ships, and it was carrying...a gift. For us."

"What sort of gift?" Uther had many enemies, and they were never far from his mind. Morgana had a feeling he was imagining a large wooden horse.

"Bring 'er in," Arthur called.

Into the hall came a woman in flowing dress. Her hair was the color of sunset, and her eyes icy blue as the northern sea. She curtsied; her bearing was regal. _"Hilsener, din majestet. Jeg er Prinsesse Sigrid av Balfonheim."_


	2. A Rosebud Set With Little Willful Thorns

"And would you believe, it's a woman!" Merlin was recounting the tale of the Northmen's "gift" to Gaius. He hadn't seen anything firsthand, but Arthur had told him all about it while Merlin put away his traveling things.

"She's the gift?"

"So it would seem. And worse, she's defective - doesn't speak a word of any civilized speech."

Gaius gave Merlin a hard look, and Merlin couldn't help feeling sheepish. What a thing to say. She was a person, after all, even if she was some sort of barbarian. Under Uther's rule, all sorts of people were considered undesirable, including Merlin himself.

"A-anyway, Geoffrey's still examining her royal seal. But he thinks it's the real thing: she's the eldest princess of Balfonheim in the northlands. They think she intends to marry Uther."

Gaius made a sound between a snort and a cough. "That's an interesting plan."

"It does make sense. A royal wedding would heal the rift between our two countries. Stop the raids on the coast. In fact, her country's armada might be able to repel other seafaring bandits."

"Arthur's really been filling your ears, hasn't he?" said Gaius, raising an eyebrow.

"So?"

"Although he hides it, Uther still carries the scars of his first wife's death. Besides which, she and her coterie don't speak our language, nor we theirs. Simplifies the secret plotting."

"You don't know that they're plotting anything," Merlin protested. "I bet they're lovely."

"My opinion and the truth are both equally worthless. What matters is that Uther will think they're plotting something. Whatever the princess's intents, her plan has no chance of success."

Merlin thought this over. What if someone did know her intents? If she were dangerous, he could let Arthur know, stop her at once. And if not, her marriage would be good for Camelot.

The next morning, Gaius found Merlin slumped over a desk, face stuck in a book. Gaius rapped the desk hard, and Merlin sat up with a snort. One cheek bore faint, backwards lettering.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" said Gaius.

Merlin ran off. The king had requested the presence of Morgana and Arthur at breakfast that morning, to get acquainted with Sigrid.

He was late, but no one noticed. They were all watching their mysterious guest poke at her food and babble in her impossible language. Merlin took the opportunity to surreptitiously cast a spell on himself.

_"By the gods of the earth and sea, what is this?"_ said Princess Sigrid, prodding a grape with her fork. Merlin delightedly realized that he heard her actual words, yet he understood them as if he had studied her language all his life.

"Have you never seen grapes before?" asked Morgana kindly.

_"I have never seen such a thing. Is it a variety of acorn?"_ Sigrid skewered it and cut it in half. Looking pleasantly surprised at the taste, she helped herself to more, each of which she cut daintily in half while holding up a one-sided narrative about the kinds of fruits that grew in her native land.

"Ham," said Morgana, pointing at the ham. "Bread. Butter. Jam. Kippered herring."

Sigrid repeated all these back, then again in her own tongue. Morgana repeated her words.

"Would you be silent!" Uther banged his hand on the table. "You're like magpies. You chatter." He flapped a hand in an imitation of a mouth.

_"Then how will you ever learn, you savage brute?"_ Sigrid said in her own language. "Chatter," she said, repeating his word with a thick accent. "Chatter." She added his gesture, flapping her hand first at Morgana, then at herself. "Chatter, chatter."

Arthur, who had been watching in silent amusement, could barely contain himself.

"You find this funny, do you?" Uther turned to his son. "Perhaps you shall be the one to marry this girl."

That resulted in an argument between father and son, with Sigrid asking repeatedly what they were talking about, then hilariously (to Merlin, who was the only person in the room who could understand both sides) interjecting her own interpretations.

"Perhaps you two should send her back whence she came," said Morgana testily. "Like an unwanted parcel."

Arthur quieted. "No, we shouldn't do that. The coastal people can't take much more of her countrymen."

"What's this? I thought the mission went well," said Uther.

"Yes, but it wasn't a full-force attack. It was just the Princess and her ship. We did kill a few of them before we knew what was happening."

Uther was silent, tacitly agreeing that sending her back would be, if nothing else, strategically disadvantageous.

_"My guards fight well,"_ said Sigrid approvingly. _"And your knights are valiant. I shall soon take their measure in battle."_

Merlin almost spoke up, but realized in time that he couldn't. There would be questions he didn't want to answer. Meanwhile, Sigrid clicked her fingers and her maid brought over a map.

_"I wish to take a day trip together,"_ she said, gesturing at herself and then at Uther. Pointing to the map, she went on, _"I want a full tour of the town in the morning. I wish to see the nearby farms as well. Then we'll see how fares the hunting in these forests."_

The royal family stared at her uncomprehendingly. She gestured more broadly. Merlin was tempted to intervene, but eventually she did manage to get her point across.

"I can't simply disappear for a whole day," said Uther. "Who would sit on the throne?"

_"Do you think it will float away? The crown prince will weigh it down well enough."_ Sigrid turned to Arthur.

"Arthur? Impossible. He isn't ready."

At that, Arthur stood up straighter. "I think I can handle it for a single day, father. Sign this, behead that. How hard could it be?"

"Oh, so. If that's what you think, then perhaps this is overdue. We'll see how smart your tongue is tomorrow."

Uther left for the council chambers with Sigrid on his heels. When Merlin finished with the dishes, he slipped into the council chambers to hear what else she had to say. Uther was pointedly ignoring her.

_"This will be quite dull if you can't even be bothered to shout at me. Pompous blister."_ She stilled the river of speech for a moment, observing Uther's face, steadily looking at nothing in the other direction. _"You don't look like a wight to me. Yet how can a man with no heart continue to live?"_

A heartless wight? What does that mean? Merlin wondered.

* * *

><p>That evening, a man grabbed a woman passing by in the marketplace. "Blancheflor? Blancheflor? God's wounds, is it you?"<p>

_"Dere tar feil. Jeg vet ikke du,"_ she said, trying to shake the man's hand off her cloak. _"Jeg må tilbake til slottet._ I must return to the castle!"


	3. King for a Day

The morning of Arthur's temporary coronation, Merlin was up early. He was disappointed that he wouldn't get to listen to Sigrid that day, but the excitement of suddenly being servant to a king more than made up for it.

After breakfast, Arthur and Merlin headed to the council chamber. Uther explained the situation to everyone who needed to know and expressed his confidence that Arthur would rule well until his return.

Arthur sat down on the throne. Wiggled a bit. Rubbed the arms. Looked expectantly out into the chamber. After about three minutes, he turned to Merlin. "How do you feel about chess?"

"You should be getting reports from your lords shortly. I don't know what's taking them so -"

One such lord burst into the chamber all flustered.

"Begging Your Highness's pardon," he said. Then he looked more closely at Arthur. "My...prince?"

"I'm king for today. Weren't you here earlier?"

The lord bowed deeply. "My apologies, sire. There was a murder in the town this morning. I'm afraid I've been quite busy."

Hopping up, Arthur ordered two of his knights to his side. "We'll go down and investigate at once."

"Aren't you forgetting something, Your Majesty?" Merlin whispered. "The king stays on the throne."

"Oh. Of course." Looking a bit disappointed, Arthur sat down and ordered three of his knights to investigate.

After that near-excitement, the lord - who turned out to be the steward of Camelot town, the person who handled its day-to-day affairs - gave him a full report on the town. Following that, a steady stream of aristocrats gave him agriculture reports, financial reports, and on and on. That took them all the way to lunch.

Arthur stalked around the dining hall, refusing Merlin's suggestion to sit. "I just spent the last four hours on my duff, and I'm not wasting the opportunity to move. Merlin, you do understand that everything I say to you must be held in the strictest confidence, correct?"

"Of course. I will carry it to my grave that you find crop reports less than fascinating."

Arthur clapped him on the shoulder. "Good man. What's next?"

"Trials. The lords normally take care of that, but the most serious crimes will come to you."

"Justice, fine. I can do that." Arthur took a deep, bracing breath. "Once more unto the breach."

The trial brought before Arthur was far from simple. Three men stood accused of robbing a merchant's carriage. One of them, a large and slow-witted man, had been captured and named the other two in exchange for leniency.

"And it wasn't the first time," said the advocate for the Mercantile Guild. "They're responsible for a string of highway robberies. We've been trying to catch them for a long time."

"I suppose this one isn't the brains of the outfit, then. Well, what have you two to say for yourselves?"

The other two supposed robbers were indignant. They were honest lumberjacks, they claimed, living and working in the forest, and they hated bandits just as much as the merchants.

"Then I must ask: have you any proof that these men are involved in the robberies? Any at all?"

The merchant advocate was forced to admit that they had searched the homes of all three men and come up empty. "But, Highness, our witness doesn't know how to lie. Ask him anything, you'll find he answers true. That's why we will submit to a lesser punishment for him."

"I cannot cut off the hands of two tradesmen based solely on the word of a halfwit," said Arthur, to much grumbling among the merchants. He held a hand up. "However, I will increase the guard on merchants entering and leaving the kingdom and expand the area of protection."

"Your Highness, there is one other thing. I heard tell that these bandits employed..._sorcery_."

Looking tremendously unimpressed, Arthur rose from the throne. "If you think a second baseless accusation will achieve what the first did not, you are sorely mistaken. Now go, before you find yourself in the stocks. And you three -" Arthur addressed the accused bandits, "If you ever again come up against criminal charges within the borders of Camelot, you'll pray it's only your hands you lose."

All the involved parties hurried out.

"That was pretty good," Merlin whispered.

"Yeah, I'm feeling more regal by the minute," Arthur said grimly. 

* * *

><p>As Arthur was handing down his judgement, Uther was lying in a shady spot dozing off.<p>

After a busy morning around Camelot town, he and Sigrid spent an hour or so hunting hares. Then she had spotted a high cliff where a mountain tributary cascaded down into a clear pond and insisted they go there at once. At which point she started stripping off her clothes and Uther sent his guards away to clean and cook the hares. He wasn't sure what she was going to do, but he felt it might be perilous.

What she did was strip down to the bare minimum required by modesty and dive into the water. Since his own chivalric code prohibited him from joining her, he found a patch of shade and took off as much clothing as could be considered proper. It was a damnably hot day.

When she emerged sopping wet from the pond, Uther got an eyeful of her figure. Looking was questionable, but she didn't seem to be attacking him with anything heavy. In fact, she seemed rather pleased with his attention. That was enough to prove he wasn't accosting her honor, he felt. She joined him in the shade and they started in on lunch.

Picking up a cherry by the stem, she examined it and then put the whole thing in her mouth, stem and all. Holding up a hand to stop her, he picked up another cherry from the bowl. Slicing it open with a dagger, he showed her the pit inside.

He took another one and demonstrated how to eat it. Pluck the stem, eat the fruit, spit out the pit. She copied him exactly, right down to the spitting. He had to laugh. Would she ever cease surprising him?

She was a little embarrassed, but recovered quickly. "_Og at jeg gjør så godt alle mann!_" she said, and laughed at herself. _And that I do as well as any man!_

* * *

><p>At last, it was time for supper. Arthur again wandered about the dining hall, much to Morgana's amusement.<p>

"Who knew sitting around all day could be so tiring?" he griped.

Morgana smiled. "Perhaps you should take up drawing or needlepoint."

"Laugh while you can. One day you'll probably be a queen, and you'll have all the responsibility and none of the authority."

"Oh no," said Morgana lightly. "When I am queen, I will have all the authority."

A page entered the hall and told Arthur that his knights were requesting an audience.

"Now?" Arthur's look was fierce, but it was hardly the messenger's fault. "So send them in already."

The knight knelt before Arthur. "Your Highness, we've come to report on the murder investigation."

"And?"

"Nothing. We found nothing all day long," said Sir Leon. "No witnesses. Not even the murder weapon. It's like a ghost killed that man."

Arthur rolled his eyes to the heavens. "Very well. You may go."

"But it wasn't a ghost...right?" said Merlin.

That seemed like a reasonable thing to ask to Merlin, who had seen no end of spells and magical creatures since moving to the supposedly non-magical kingdom of Camelot. But Arthur's expression said exactly what he thought of that question.

The hall's door opened again, and Arthur threw his hands up in frustration. "What is it now?"

It was Uther and Sigrid.

"Father! I didn't mean...I mean...how was your trip?"

"Very refreshing. I see that the castle still stands, and nothing seems to be afire. You've done well; I should like to try this again. And how did you find the crown?"

"How can I put this...?" Arthur laid a hand on his father's shoulder. "I hope you live a very long, healthy life."

* * *

><p>Merlin returned late to his quarters to find Gaius quite awake.<p>

"Merlin, there you are. I'm afraid I have one more task for you today. Don't give me that look, just take this draught up to Princess Sigrid's chambers."

"I was just there a moment ago. You couldn't have given it to me earlier?"

"Her servant Dagmar was supposed to pick it up. In fact, she was supposed to pick it up yesterday. It is vitally important that they receive this draught tonight, Merlin."

Sighing, Merlin took the little bottle and left.


	4. Five Deaths

The next fortnight passed without serious incident. Sigrid divided her time between sparring and hunting with Arthur and babbling incessantly at Uther and Morgana. Unfortunately, she didn't speak much to Arthur, who was more of a man of action anyway. Merlin wished, for the first time ever, that he was Uther's servant instead. Just for a few weeks. Well, maybe a few days.

The king, normally decisive to a fault, had yet to decide what to do with the princess. The barbarian raids showed no sign of stopping, but neither was there a guarantee that marrying the girl would help anything. She understood a lot of what she was told, but the fact remained that there were no translators and still a host of questions about what she was doing there.

Morgana enjoyed having another lady around the court, even if she wasn't exactly traditional. They both loved riding, and soon fell into a habit of going out before breakfast.

"May I ask you a personal question?" said Morgana, on one of these crisp mornings. "Why did you come here, of all places?"

_"My father has forbidden contact with Camelot for twenty years,"_ said Sigrid. _"It made me curious."_

"Still, you must have known something of Uther before you got here. What do they say of him in your kingdom?"

_"My people consider the wife to be her husband's heart. A man who does not remarry after his wife's death is said to be 'heartless,' you see?"_ Sigrid laughed. _"The common folk are very superstitious. Uther is a hard man, but he isn't any sort of wraith."_

"What if the people are right? Could you marry a man who is cold and dead inside?"

To her surprise, Sigrid smiled warmly. _"I have been thrice a stepdaughter. Worry not. I've seen how Uther speaks to you. If he loves me half as well, I shall consider myself blessed."_

That afternoon, the steward of Camelot town informed Uther that there had been a lynching in the forest. Several merchants had captured three bandits robbing a carriage and hanged them. Uther ordered Arthur to the site.

When he arrived at the scene, Arthur found the three men he had pardoned hanging from a tree. The Mercantile Guild advocate was there to offer the merchants' side of the story: they had laid a trap for the robbers and caught them red-handed. One of them divulged the location of their cache in exchange for leniency, but the merchants were inflamed. It seemed they had gotten out of hand when the loot was discovered.

Arthur returned and dutifully reported the entire story to his father, who listened silently.

"Let that be a lesson to you," he said when Arthur finished. "Fear is the only thing that prevents criminals from overrunning our society. Those who would do evil must know that justice will be harsh and inevitable. The guilty will be punished, whether at your hands or the hands of an angry mob."

_"What kind of thing is that to tell him?"_ said Sigrid. _"Justice is not capricious. If people feel they are to be punished no matter their actions, they have no reason to do good. You did well, Arthur. The result was out of your hands."_

"Thanks, I think," said Arthur, from her encouraging tone.

A page entered with a letter. "For Princess Sigrid of Balfonheim."

Looking as surprised as anyone, she took the letter and read it over. When she had read it through a second time, she said, _"Begging your pardons, I must go."_ And took her leave.

"What was that about?" Arthur wondered aloud. Morgana shot him a look and went after Sigrid.

It was time for supper, so Uther and Arthur headed for the dining hall, having grown accustomed to eating together. The table was bare, and there was no one else in sight.

"Merlin," Arthur snapped. "Where's the food?"

"Oh, er, probably the kitchen." Merlin had been so caught up in his spying that he had forgotten that he was supposed to be bringing the food. Still, there were other servants who should have been bringing things. What of them?

His question was answered even before he got to the kitchen. Everything was in total disarray. Gwen was there, standing just outside the threshold looking helplessly at the mess.

"It's terrible. One of the cooks has been stabbed. No one wants to be the one to inform the king."

"That's awful. Don't worry, though. I'll tell Arthur and he'll tell the king." Merlin hesitated. "I hate to ask, but...is there anything for supper, then?"

"Oh! Goodness, I forgot all about it." Gwen hurried around the kitchen and pantry collecting items and tossing them haphazardly on plates. "What a day." Gwen shoved a tray into Merlin's hands and they headed to the dining hall.

"What is this?" Arthur said. "Cold mutton, cold squab, boiled eggs, and raw vegetables?"

Merlin leaned close to his ear. "The cook has been stabbed to death."

Uther didn't even have to order him out. Arthur left without further comment, and Merlin followed to see if he could be of assistance.

* * *

><p>Morgana entered the dining hall as the supper remains were being cleared away. She stood at Uther's feet and waited for him to ask her to speak.<p>

"The letter that Sigrid received informed her that her sister, the Queen of Hammersund in the northlands, has just produced an heir. And died in the attempt. I thought you'd want to know."

Message sent, Morgana turned and walked out.

* * *

><p>Uther rapped on Sigrid's door and was let in by her maid, Dagmar. Sigrid was on the balcony, looking out at the mountains.<p>

"It's freezing in here. Start a fire," Uther told Dagmar.

"_Liker den kalde. Det minner meg om hjemme_," said Sigrid, not looking at him.

"Don't be stubborn. You'll catch your death." He took off his heavy cloak and draped it over her shoulders.

"_Min søster er død. Hun bodde i et annet rike. Det har vært så lenge, jeg ville ikke engang kjenne henne igjen om jeg så henne på gata._" She pulled the cloak around her.

"My wife died in childbirth. It is a terrible thing to go through. And your sister lived so far away. She should have had family nearby."

Sigrid turned towards him, tears glistening in the moonlight. He knew enough about the proud warrior princess to understand that she allowed very few people to see her tender heart laid bare, and her trust stirred something within him. He took off a glove and brushed away her tears. She rested her head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her.

It had been a long time since he'd felt a woman's embrace. If he were a reflective man, he would have found it ironic that he was more faithful to his wife after her death than he was during her short life. But so it was, for she had taken his heart with her to the grave.

He now found that same heart beating afresh. It wasn't just the thrill of having a beautiful woman in his arms; he knew that as well, and this was different. As a young buck, he preferred demure, obedient women. Yet thinking back on those flowers of his youth, he only felt weary. Were he to marry, he desired a partner in all things, one who could share the burden of the crown, be his strength where he was weak.

Although unaccustomed to prayer, Uther took a moment to silently ask for Ygraine's forgiveness.


	5. The Other Wife

Uther and Sigrid knocked at Gaius's door the next morning after breakfast. Merlin stayed in his own chamber, eavesdropping. Uther sat with Sigrid on a bench and took her hands."If we are to be married, there is something you must see," Uther said. "Do you know how I got the name Pendragon?"

She shook her head.

"When I was young and foolish, I thought I might make a name for myself by slaying a dragon. I got the name all right, but I carry another memento of that battle."

Uther took off his left glove, revealing a horribly burned hand. Merlin had seen some bad burns, but this was among the worst he'd seen on someone who was still alive. Sigrid looked it over, then took the scarred hand in both of hers and kissed it.

"I'm afraid I can't feel a thing with it," said Uther, though he looked well pleased.

_"We consider battle scars symbols of triumph and strength. Besides, brave warriors get their lost body parts back when they enter the hall of the gods."_

"Good. Then you won't mind if Gaius gives you a quick examination."

* * *

><p>"Sigrid is holding a recital tonight in honor of her sister," said Morgana, over lunch. "It should be fascinating, don't you think?"<p>

"Yes, I've heard," said Arthur. "Barbarian opera. Fun."

"They aren't barbarians. They have a rich culture not unlike our own. Which you'd know if you ever spoke to the woman who is going to be your stepmother."

"In a hundred years, I would not have guessed my father would tolerate such a willful woman in his court, much less marry her. Truly, wonders never cease."

Morgana looked over at the head of the table, where Uther was not sitting. "She sees light in him where most see only darkness."

This thought had been turning over in Morgana's mind for weeks. She told herself that Uther was hopelessly fallen, that Sigrid was merely naive. And yet, was there anyone so corrupt who could not be redeemed if they genuinely wanted to be? Was anyone so lost and alone that no one could find them?

Spotting Gwen holding a water pitcher, Arthur caught her eye. "It's because Sigrid looks past the king to see the man. There aren't many like her." They shared a smile. "Where is the happy couple, anyway?"

At that moment, Uther and Sigrid burst into the dining hall, shouting. Merlin and Gaius trailed behind. Arthur stood, unsure of what was happening, which afforded Sigrid the opportunity to grab his sword right out of its scabbard and menace Uther with it.

_"By all my father's fathers, you will pay for insulting my honor!"_

"Don't be ridiculous," said Uther. "I didn't call you a troll. I would never do such a thing. I merely asked Gaius to make sure that you are _not_ a troll."

Arthur pressed his lips together, trying to swallow a laugh. "Well, that's only prudent. So how did our court physician find her?"

Gaius steepled his hands. "She seems to be a perfectly healthy young lady. With a healthy appetite for fresh food. Quite unlike a troll, really."

_"I'll show you fresh,"_ Sigrid said, setting Arthur's sword down on the table and picking up a pear. This she lobbed at Uther, who blocked it neatly with his gauntlet.

_"Ignorant savage!"_ Uther spat at her, and it took Merlin a moment to realize he'd said it in her own language. Apparently he had been listening to her after all.

She blinked in surprise, then smiled delightedly. With a deep curtsy, she said, "I apologize for my temper, my lord." Though halting and heavily accented, she offered her apology in English, the first she had spoken since her arrival.

The king's expression softened as well, and he accepted her apology graciously. They joined Arthur and Morgana at the table as if nothing had happened.

Sigrid looked over at Uther, who was helping himself to some strawberries. _"All you do is eat. If I had known, I would have brought a better cook."_

Every time she said something like this, Merlin winced in anticipation of the inevitable horrible punishment. However, the king never showed any signs of understanding what she said. Morgana, on the other hand, understood more and more every day.

"Must you bait him so?" Morgana asked, looking amused. "Perhaps flattery might serve you better."

_"Oh yes, he's very handsome,"_ Sigrid said dismissively. _"Does a king need a queen to tell him what is clear to any lackwit?"_

This time, Uther looked up at her. "Was that a compliment? I fear I shall be overcome."

The princess's mouth hung open for a moment. _"Don't get used to it,"_ she said. _"A great man requires a great woman, not a simpering fool. Those who speak of the obvious make quick work at the ingrbrand."_

Merlin shook his head, wishing he could ask her to repeat herself. How could his spell possibly have failed? But before he could wonder too long, she had moved on to another topic.

_"Tell me about Arthur's mother. She must have existed, for there sits the proof. Yet there are no portraits or markers anywhere."_

The hithertofore congenial atmosphere turned instantly chilly.

"We do not speak of Ygraine," said Uther.

Sigrid frowned. _"Did she do you some wrong?"_

"How dare you!" Uther exploded, but that only sparked Sigrid's temper.

_"How dare _you_ hide your wife away like something shameful! What did she do to deserve such treatment?"_

Occasionally Uther could be shocked right out of a rage, though it always took a moment for him to recover his wits. "Is that how it appears?" he asked, after a bit. Turning to Arthur, he said, "Do you think that I am ashamed of your mother?"

"I was always afraid to ask," said Arthur evenly.

Sigrid touched Uther's damaged hand. _"He who leaves an arrow buried in his flesh avoids the pain of pulling it out. But such wounds cannot heal, they can only rot. It ill serves your wife's memory to allow your love to curdle into poison."_

* * *

><p>Later in the day, Merlin found himself walking the same corridor as Guinevere.<p>

"Has Gaius discovered anything about John's death?" she asked.

"Who? Oh - the cook. No, I'm sorry. All he's been able to determine is that his knife wound resembles the one from the beggar a few weeks ago. But what a beggar and a castle cook would have in common..." He shrugged.

"I don't know if it means anything, but I did hear something."

"Why didn't you tell Arthur?"

"Oh, it's just a bit of gossip. John kept saying he knew one of the ladies from Balfonheim."

"How is that possible? There's no trade, no immigration. No one even knows their language here."

"I don't know. He just said she looked like someone he knew long ago." Gwen fell silent, lost in thought. "It's scary, isn't it? Knowing there's a murderer walking amongst us?"

Merlin had been so busy with his translation spell that he hadn't thought much about it. Now that Gwen brought it up, it was unsettling.

She rapped on a door, which was opened by Dagmar. Without realizing it, Merlin had followed Gwen to her destination. She entered the princess's chambers and set down a bowl of fruit.

"Thank you," said Sigrid, in her thickly accented English. Gwen curtsied and slipped silently out the door. Merlin stopped her from closing it completely, holding one finger up to his lips. Gwen gave him a look, but didn't stop him from listening.

_"How like Uther to send food,"_ Sigrid said with a chuckle. _"These green things really are marvelous, though. What are they called, again?"_

"Grapes," said Dagmar. Merlin could hardly contain himself. She spoke English! Good English!

_"Camelot is indeed perfect for our purposes, my lady,"_ Dagmar continued. _"While our crops show no sign of recovery, these lands are rich and fertile. I have no doubt that the Wight King will give you whatever you ask."_

_"Wight King indeed,"_ Sigrid scoffed. _"He is a man like any other. What has Arthur discovered of John the cook's death?"_

_"Nothing, my lady. Both he and the court physician Gaius are at a loss."_

_"I see. Arthur is valiant, but he is not the brightest star in the heavens. Send Olafsen to the kitchen and install him as the new cook."_

Head spinning, Merlin headed back to his quarters.

* * *

><p>"Need I even remind you how dangerous it is to cast spells right under the king's nose? Oh, never mind," Gaius sighed. "What did you learn from your eavesdropping?"<p>

"Balfonheim suffers a famine. Sigrid hopes her marriage will obligate Uther to aid her countrymen."

"She is correct, it will. Have you considered that she may have already broached the subject with Uther?"

Merlin flapped his mouth wordlessly. In point of fact, he had not considered that.

"If what you've been telling me about her is true, it seems she's been commendably forthright the entire time she's been here. Was there anything else?"

"Yes, definitely other things. I think the Balfonheim delegation are involved in John Cook's murder. They're sending their own cook to replace him."

"My, my. Princess Sigrid had a man killed so she could inflict lutefisk on an unsuspecting populace? Dastardly."

"Well...I mean...there is mischief a cook could get up to."

"Give it up, boy. You don't even know what the supposed plot is."

"What about that potion you send with Dagmar every night? What's that, then?"

"None of your business. But if it will put your mind at ease, it's the same sleeping draught I make for Morgana. Nothing sinister at all."

"Dagmar the maid speaks English. They've been hiding it this whole time!"

Gaius gave him a severe look. "And what have you been doing, eh?"

"But purposes, Gaius. I specifically heard Dagmar say they had purposes. Intents! Plots, even!"

"You should be so lucky as to have a purpose, Merlin. Clearly I haven't been keeping you busy enough. I think I have a jar of newt's eyes that need polishing..."

* * *

><p>The same week, Uther had a portrait of Ygraine taken out of storage and hung in a small room off the entrance hall of the castle. Arthur disappeared with some frequency throughout the day, and Merlin quickly caught on that he was slipping away to look at the portrait. Nor was he the only one who visited it; by evening, there was a small collection of flowers, candles, and other tokens lying beneath it.<p>

As Arthur stood gazing at his mother, he was not so lost in thought that he failed to notice footsteps behind him. He recognized the rhythm of the gait and the sound of the boots as his father's and did not bother to turn and look.

"I feel like everyone knew my mother but me," he said, looking down at the memorial tokens. "Even Sigrid was in here talking to her. Granted, that may have been taking things a bit far..."

"It is a custom among her people. She thanked your mother for the family she left behind, and asked for her blessing on our marriage."

"Then you will marry her?"

"I sent a letter of intent to her father this morning."

Uther's clothes rustled as he shifted uneasily. Knowing how difficult all this was for his father, Arthur wanted to do something, or say something. But then he thought back on the long years of wondering and longing and cold silence, and the words stuck in his throat.

After a long while, Uther said, "Your mother loved flowers. Her favorite place in the world was the royal garden. She...always had dirt under her fingernails."

"What, you couldn't afford gardener's gloves for her?" Arthur joked, trying in vain to chase away this fresh feeling of loss.

"She always lost them. Sometimes she would borrow mine and complain that they were too big..." Uther's voice caught a little. "We found them in the oddest places. Under the bed, in the pantry, down a well, woven into a bird's nest..."

"You're kidding." Arthur laughed out loud, and turned to see that his father was smiling too.

"I like to think her mind was on loftier things than gloves."

Uther felt a pang of regret, but it was not as he expected. Remembering Ygraine in this way did not cause the flood of longing and guilt as it had when her loss was new. What he regretted was keeping Arthur from his mother for so long - yet another account to be settled on judgement day, but also a mistake he could still correct.

Arthur imagined his mother in the garden, amongst the flowers, immensely pleased that he could finally see her face in his mind's eye. Morgause had showed him a vision, but when her treachery was revealed, he couldn't trust that it was even his mother he'd seen. It was like losing her all over again.

"Will you tell me more about her sometime?"

"I promise."

Arthur nodded. "I don't suppose it matters whether I give you my blessing," he said. "But I do."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note:<strong> Has anybody else noticed that Uther always wears gloves, whether at the dinner table, showing affection to his loved ones or pitching woo? His hands might be the only part of his body that never touched Lady Catrina.


	6. Trials

King Torben of Balfonheim sent word back with his swiftest messenger that he would come to Camelot as soon as possible. In the meantime, anticipating his approval, wedding preparations were already underway.

After the arrival of the advance messenger, northmen began to amass outside Camelot, making camp in any uninhabited spots they could find. Uther sent the knights to organize things, an exhausting job that made Arthur nigh unbearable by the time Merlin saw him in the evenings.

Sigrid offered to help, but Uther said it would be good experience for the future king. Instead, she spent her time briefing Uther on the many wedding traditions of her people.

"First, I will have to best her in combat," Uther told Gaius. "This is called _ingrbrand, _and it takes place the day before the wedding."

Merlin's ears pricked up. There was that word again! So his question was answered: the spell hadn't failed, there was simply no English translation for a premarital martial contest.

"Isn't that a bit...savage for a wedding ceremony?"

"It's actually quite beautiful. Her people believe in growth through adversity. If the couple is well-matched, the combat only strengthens the bond between them."

Gaius was still having trouble with the idea. "How much patching up will you both require following this beautiful tradition?"

Uther laughed. "Gaius, it's only a formality. The winner decides whether the wedding proceeds, but we are in agreement on that. Not that I intend losing to a woman. She did inform me that her people will be expecting a show."

Gaius sighed heavily. "Merlin, put together a healing box. Extra bandages."

"No need for that. We'll be using ceremonial swords with dull blades. It isn't mortal combat, after all." Uther clapped Gaius soundly on the shoulder and left him rubbing it in annoyance.

After the king was safely out of earshot, Merlin grinned. "Just between you and me, I think barbarians are Uther's kind of people."

* * *

><p>On King Torben's arrival, Uther ordered a banquet in his honor, sending out word among the Camelot nobility the same day. Torben in turn sent fifteen casks of ale and assorted spirits for the banquet.<p>

The northmen were raucous and hearty, but Merlin had to admit they were hardly savage. Torben had brought along his two youngest children, Prince Henrik and Princess Sofia, leaving his queen in charge of Balfonheim. A handful of carefully chosen nobles also came along, and there was much talk amongst the knights of the northern ladies with hair like the sun.

Merlin had plenty of opportunity to spy on the candid remarks of the northmen. They complained constantly about the climate, which they found much too hot - probably owing to their thick and frequently fur-lined attire. They loved Camelot's exotic food and approved of the royal match, though they felt Uther was too old for a younger wife, and Sigrid too stubborn for an older husband. They thought Camelot's servants were only slightly stupider and lazier than their own. In short, Merlin found, nobility was nobility at any latitude.

After the meal was dancing. Merlin never thought of Uther as the dancing type, perhaps because the king habitually sat out at court fêtes. But after all, he had not had a partner for a very long time. Morgana and Arthur were kept busy with dance requests, and even the servants got to have a good time - albeit out of sight.

Late in the night, as the festivities inside went on, Uther and Torben went outside to speak alone. Torben brought his interpreter, which made things much simpler; although Uther could understand the northern tongue, he hardly knew enough to be conversant, and Torben knew no English at all.

Torben lit a pipe and smoked thoughtfully. _"Sigrid's first suitor was a wealthy merchant. Second, a baron. Third, fourth, and fifth, princes. After the second prince I thought she might be holding out for a king. Lo and behold."_

"I admit, I had my suspicions when she came to us," said Uther with a smile.

_"That only proves your wisdom. My first wife died defending our castle. She was as wild as the stormy sea, and Sigrid is the same."_

"So you didn't send her here?"

_"I strictly forbade her. Perished or married, gone is gone. Ah, daughters. Why can't they be sons?"_

* * *

><p>The revelry continued late into the night. Merlin fell asleep in a quiet corner, promising himself he'd only rest his eyes for a few minutes. When he woke, the moon was bright in the sky. At least he hadn't slept through breakfast.<p>

On the way back to his quarters, he decided to check Arthur's room to see if the prince had made it to bed. The open door put him on alert. Slowly, silently, he crept into the chamber. Arthur was splayed across his bed, sound asleep, and a woman's figure loomed over him, backlit in the moonlight. She held a knife.

Without a thought to the consequences, Merlin cast a spell to knock her back. She fell heavily and did not get up right away. Merlin rushed to Arthur's side, but he was unhurt - not even awake, the silly sot.

Rounding the bedside to find the identity of the attacker, he found Sigrid and her maid Dagmar sitting side by side. Dagmar just shivered, turning huge terrified eyes up at him. Sigrid was holding a dagger and looking confused. _"Not again," _she moaned.

Merlin shouted for the guards.

Even with the chaos in his bedchamber, it took some doing to rouse Arthur. After Merlin told the guards what happened, the king was summoned and Arthur sobered up in a hurry. Meanwhile, Sigrid stood still as a pillar, watching Arthur with unfathomable eyes.

"My guards have informed me that an attempt has been made on the life of the crown prince," said Uther, when he arrived. "Explain."

Merlin related his story once more for the king.

"Which woman was it holding the knife?"

Thinking for a moment, Merlin realized that he hadn't seen the attacker's face. "She was lit from behind. I couldn't see her face, just a shadow."

"And then you did what?"

"I - I tackled her. That's when I noticed there were two women there."

Uther looked at Sigrid. "Why were you two in my son's room?"

"She followed me. I have a..." Keeping her eyes on the floor, Sigrid searched for the right word. It was such a change from her usual demeanor that she almost seemed a different person. "An affliction."

"You have an illness that compels you to assassinate princes?" Uther's famous temper was rising.

In her distress, Sigrid couldn't manage any more English. _"I walk in my sleep. I only know because others tell me. I do not remember the things I do. But it has been so long, I thought I was cured..." _She turned her face a little and tears glistened in the moonlight. _"I'm sorry. So sorry."_

Arthur stepped between them. "Father, I am unharmed. If she really wanted to kill me, she had ample opportunity before now. I believe this was just an accident."

Uther was quiet for a moment, weighing his betrothed's fate. It never took him long to render a decision, but things were more complicated where Arthur was concerned. Finally, he said, "You will speak to Gaius in the morning. I'm sure he can make you a draught to control your...affliction." The king swept out, taking the guards with him.

His words reminded Merlin of something Gaius had said earlier, but he didn't have time to summon the memory before Arthur tossed a pillow at his head and ordered him out.

Sigrid was at Gaius's door even before dawn. Merlin hastily threw on some clothes and let her in despite feeling rather self-conscious. He should have guessed she wouldn't be able to sleep after what happened with Arthur.

She explained the situation as best she could. Gaius was not surprised about her sleepwalking; Merlin recalled now that Gaius had been preparing her sleeping draughts even from her first days at Camelot. He was only surprised now that it seemed to have stopped working. Gaius promised the princess he would work on an improved version, and she left still looking haunted.

"I suppose Uther will want an explanation," Gaius murmured, collecting books and ingredients.

"No...she didn't tell him you had already given her a draught."

"Took the responsibility all on her own shoulders, eh? Brave girl, but a bit reckless."

"Gaius," said Merlin thoughtfully, "I remember another time when there was a potion that didn't work. Do you?"

"This is no time for riddles, boy. Honestly, sometimes I wonder about you."

"Lady Catrina had that potion that turned her into a woman. I replaced it with a facsimile and the effect disappeared. Do you suppose someone could have done the same with Princess Sigrid's sleeping draught?"

Gaius nodded. "Indeed, anyone with access to her chambers could have done. If she still has a bottle there, I can check the contents."

Minutes later, Merlin was knocking at Sigrid's door. She had gone to breakfast, which reminded Merlin that he was supposed to be there serving. But he was already here, and he really wanted to know what was in that bottle.

Knowing Dagmar could understand him, he didn't bother with theatrics. "The sleeping draught. Where is it?"

_"Princess Sigrid's potion? I'm afraid I spilled the last of it just now - the events of the night frightened me so."_ Dagmar trembled. "_I knew of Her Majesty's illness, but I never imagined she would attack the crown prince!"_

Merlin found it hard to believe that such a wilting violet would last long as Sigrid's attendant. But as he served breakfast in relative tranquility, he reminded himself that not everybody's life was as full of life-and-death crises as his and Arthur's.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note:<strong> Thanks to my kind reviewers! Research is one of my favorite parts of writing, and Merlin is a great excuse to read some Tennyson and enjoy Shakespeare's Henry IV/Henry V again.


	7. The Duel

The next day was the _ingrbrand_, the first in a series of traditional premarital ceremonies. The complexity, rigidity, and number of these ceremonies rose in direct proportion to the importance of the couple being wed, Merlin noted. He hoped his own wedding would merit some traditional pie-eating.

Sigrid met the royal family at breakfast, as had become usual. She was carrying an enormous tome, which she deposited in front of Uther. "I suppose you know what this is."

Expecting some jest, he looked down casually. Then he read the title, and his expression hardened. "How did you get that? Geoffrey would never betray me."

Sigrid looked down at him contemptuously. "Your own actions betray you, and they will dog your steps all the days of your life."

"How dare you speak to my father that way," Arthur growled, rising from the table.

"My people call him the Wight King," said Sigrid. "He is said to be as cold and pitiless as the dead. I thought -" her breath caught in her throat "- I thought that was untrue, till I read the record of this kingdom."

Uther held her gaze evenly. "Do you mean to call off the wedding?"

"That is not our way. If you can defeat me in battle, then you shall have me." She turned and left the hall without a look back.

"Her English is really improving," Arthur said wryly.

_Almost like someone is teaching her_, thought Merlin.

Uther delivered the book to the royal library himself, intending to interrogate Geoffrey thoroughly while he was at it. However, Geoffrey wasn't there. A guard informed him that he had been found collapsed and barely alive on the floor this morning, and Gaius had him carried back to his chambers for examination.

After securing the book, Uther went to Geoffrey's chambers to check on Gaius's progress.

"He's been poisoned, sire," Gaius reported. "This particular poison is slow to act, so he may have ingested it as long ago as yesterday's supper."

"Will he live?"

"Yes. The poison is simple to make, and the antidote equally so. Unfortunately, it is just as slow-acting. He won't regain consciousness for at least a day. I'm afraid we have no way of knowing who did this."

"Then we must consider the possibility that it was Sigrid."

Gaius nodded slowly. "Yes, sire, I think that would be wise."

* * *

><p>"Aren't you curious?" asked Merlin, as he helped Arthur on with his armor. "What's in the book, I mean."<p>

"I'm curious why you aren't faster with this when you've been doing it for years. As regards that book, the only thing I want to know is who gave it to Sigrid."

"She had it, doesn't it stand to reason she's the one who took it?"

"You're such a simple fellow, Merlin. If this wedding doesn't come off, her kingdom starves. She came all the way down here from the northlands and picked Camelot specifically to court. Do you really think she would attack our librarian, select a book of records that's been sealed for two decades, and use it as a pretext to call things off?"

"No, I suppose not. Someone from Camelot, then?"

"That's likelier. The person who gave Sigrid that book had to know what was in it. Unfortunately, Geoffrey is our only witness. There's no telling if he'd know who poisoned him even if he were conscious, which he isn't."

Merlin was actually impressed with Arthur's reasoning. He considered telling him so, but instead asked, "Do you think the king can win?"

"I think my father has gotten what he wants his entire life, and he doesn't intend stopping now. Hence, I will spend the next several hours showing him what I've learned of the northern fighting style."

Arthur paused a moment before heading to the training ground. "Whatever was in that book made Sigrid loathe the very sight of him. You want my honest opinion? I'm glad it's back under lock and key."

* * *

><p>With Arthur otherwise occupied, Merlin had nothing specific he needed to do. But he had lived in Camelot too long to relax when passions were running high; he felt almost itchy just sitting around. He decided to see what Sigrid was up to.<p>

Napping on a fainting couch, as it turned out. He took the opportunity to poke around her chambers, more out of habit than anything else. Gaius had ruled out troll, but there were all sorts of mystical creatures he hadn't checked for.

In the wardrobe, he found a rolled-up carpet. Strange. Merlin unrolled it and found two elaborately jeweled swords inside. Running a finger along one blade, he found it scarcely sharp enough to cut fruit.

A silk scarf wrapped around his neck, and all thoughts of king and country vanished as instinct took over. He struggled for a few seconds, and then everything went dark.

* * *

><p>At eleven o'clock, Uther called off the training. Two tents with standards flying had been raised to house the combatants and whatever preparatory things they required. Father and son repaired to the shade of the Pendragon tent for some water and fresh clothing.<p>

They sat in heavy silence while Arthur worked up the courage to ask the question he had been thinking over all morning.

"What's this all about, father?"

"What are you talking about?" Uther regularly forced Arthur to say exactly what was on his mind rather than implying it, even in matters of delicacy. It could be rather aggravating, especially taken in combination with the king's quick temper.

"Even if you defeat her, you'd only be winning her by force. That's no way to take a wife. Do you even love her?"

"That hardly matters -"

"Of course it matters! You're asking me to accept her as my stepmother, queen of Camelot. If you marry her for spite, it will be a disaster for you, for us, and for the kingdom."

"Then let me assure you that my intentions are honorable." Uther turned away and busied himself testing the balance of a sword. "She will understand in time. And so will you."

* * *

><p>At eleven-thirty, Sigrid sat in her tent with one hand on the table and the other restlessly tapping a knife between her fingers. The crowd outside grew steadily larger and noisier, but she paid no attention.<p>

King Torben entered the tent, leaving his guard outside.

_"Sigrid, do you know I saw your betrothed training this morning?"_

Tick, tick, tick, tick.

_"I forbade you to come here, and you defied me. You captured the heart of this Uther Pendragon, when all would say he had no heart to capture. What in the name of all the gods are you thinking?"_

_"I was wrong, father. The Wight King is every bit the monster we always thought. You would say the same if you knew the things he has done."_

Torben slammed a fist into the table, surprising Sigrid into looking up at him. _"I know precisely what he did! Where did you suppose our sorcerers came from? We caught them fleeing Uther's wrath."_

_"That's - that's not possible."_The blood drained from Sigrid's face. Was this her father, telling her these horror stories? He looked like a stranger.

_"Balfonheim's people are not blessed with magic, nor our land with abundance. Without Camelot's refugees, our kingdom would have been dead long ago."_

_"Then you profited from his crimes - _we_ profited from his crimes. That makes us no better."_

_"That is the reality of life as a monarch, to be solely responsible for the fate of a nation. That is why I sent raiding parties to Camelot's harbor towns. I suppose you would hold me a monster as well."_

Tears sprang to Sigrid's eyes, but she didn't wipe them away. She didn't think she could bear to look at her father anyway. She felt as if the sky were falling down upon her.

_"You came here to secure Camelot's aid, did you not? That is done. Uther has sworn to help us whatever the outcome of this battle." _

_"Whatever the outcome...?"_

_"The king is the heart of the kingdom, and the queen is the heart of the king. Think on that, and be sure you can live with your decision."_

* * *

><p>Merlin awoke with a groan. He felt lightheaded, and his throat was killing him. What time was it? Was he too late?<p>

He pelted down the corridor, but found he couldn't run for very long before it felt like he was sucking air through a sponge. Finally, after what felt like hours, he stumbled into Uther's tent, gasping like a fish. But his hard work had paid off for once: Uther was still there, looking grim but most certainly alive.

"Merlin? What's wrong with you?" said Arthur.

The clock tower started chiming.

"Can't you tell that something is seriously wrong here? Is it really so important to start at noon that you'd risk the life of the king over it? Why don't you ever listen to me when I've saved your life more times than you can count?" All these were things Merlin wanted to say, and would have said, except that his vision was blurring at the edges and he couldn't quite remember how to form words.

Uther picked up his shield and walked out.

* * *

><p>As the clock tower struck noon, Uther Pendragon and Sigrid Torbensdatter emerged from their respective tents. With their heraldic shields - gold dragon on red, white swan on blue - they marched to the center of the ring and picked up the ceremonial swords. Despite what he'd told his son, he wasn't at all sure this was the correct course, and he wondered if things would end as Arthur predicted.<p>

The question was very nearly taken out of his hands when Sigrid opened with a furious attack that he was barely able to block. But her righteous anger only made him want her more. Fire could destroy, as he well knew, but it could also cleanse.

* * *

><p>"King...in...danger...her...sword...real," Merlin panted.<p>

"I can't understand you. You sound like you've been sleeping in a chimney."

Merlin mimed choking someone. "Someone" by the name of Arthur Pendragon, not that "someone" needed to know that.

Arthur moved over to him and inspected him closely. "What happened to your neck? It looks like someone strangled you."

More than ever, Merlin wanted to make a sarcastic wisecrack. But he only had enough breath for a few words, so he opted for "her...sword...sharp." Arthur's eyes widened in understanding.

They burst out of the tent. Arthur called for his father, but Uther was intent on the battle. Indeed, he looked like he was fighting for his life. They could only watch helplessly.

Uther moved to strike.

His sword slid smoothly through Sigrid's chest.

Shocked, he pulled her close to him, and she whispered something in his ear. Her eyes closed, and for a moment everything was still.


	8. Ethos Anthropos Daimon

Merlin and Arthur hopped over the barrier into the ring. Gaius followed after, and soon Sigrid had been moved into her tent. Torben ordered Sofia and Henrik to control the crowd, which was quickly turning into a mob.

Dagmar stepped forward. _"Your Majesty,"_ she said, kneeling before Torben. _"As Her Highness's loyal servant, I humbly request that you invoke the law of _hederlige hevn_."_

The Balfonheim translator blanched.

"What did she say?" Arthur demanded.

"She asked His Majesty to make a challenge of honorable vengeance," said the translator. "Usually it consists of single combat to the death. However...the king may invoke his army in lieu of his own person."

"You mean war."

Torben paced to and fro. _"Explain why Uther had a real sword. Tell me why this is not base treachery, as it appears."_

Uther didn't look capable of explaining his own name just then. Recalling that he had seen two swords in the carpet roll, Merlin picked up Sigrid's sword and nudged Arthur.

Arthur took it and looked it over. "If I may bring this to His Majesty's attention," he said. "Both swords were sharpened. If the ceremonial swords were unknowingly switched out with real ones, then surely her death would have to be considered an accident."

"It was no accident!" said Dagmar, abruptly switching to perfect, unaccented English. "The Wight King murdered Her Highness, and he must pay in blood!"

"Who was it that garroted me," said Merlin, voice rasping. "When I found the dull swords she'd switched out for sharp ones?"

"It was Sigrid's idea," said Dagmar quickly. "The record of the Great Purge horrified her. She intended to kill Uther, or failing that, to die by his hand. In either case, she would be free of him."

"Impossible," said Uther, speaking at last. His voice was thick with grief and he could not bring himself to look at Sigrid's body, but he sounded as certain as he ever did. "She would never have risked war between our countries, no matter how much she wished to hurt me. Even with her last breath, she implored me to think of her countrymen."

_"How well you knew my daughter's heart, Uther,"_ said Torben, when the translator had finished interpreting. _"My people will see justice done, but not through a pointless war."_

Dagmar shook with rage. _"How...how can you let this perfidy stand?"_

"Blancheflor Thibault," said Gaius. Although he had not spoken loudly, everyone turned to look at him.

"My apologies, I suppose this is not the time." Gaius said mildly. "I have been wondering why you look so familiar, Dagmar. Now I recall. You remind me of someone I knew long ago named Blancheflor. She had a daughter, I believe, called Aeronwy."

_If looks could kill,_thought Merlin. Dagmar was fixing Gaius with such a look of murderous rage that Merlin wouldn't have been entirely surprised if a bolt of lightning struck him.

"My name is Dagmar. It is the name my owners gave me twenty years ago. I have no other."

"You know, I believe the Thibault family disappeared around that time, but there is no record as to what happened to them. If only there were some witness to tell us."

It was as if a dam had broken. "You know perfectly well what happened to those with the gift of magic during the Great Purge, you traitorous, cowardly dog! Uther Pendragon murdered as many as he could lay hands on - men, women, and children alike!"

Uther let that pass without comment, which to Merlin beggared belief. He looked the king over to see if there was an indication what he was thinking, but Uther's face was unreadable.

"So you contrived to take his only son in return," Gaius said smoothly, still not breaking eye contact with Dagmar.

A wicked smile spread across Dagmar's face, as if she were reminiscing about that night. "My poor princess. She never remembered a thing after her episodes."

At this, Gaius grew stern. "Sigrid gave you a safe home, a good job. How could you betray her?"

"A home? A job? You naive fool. Those of us who escaped the Great Purge begged Balfonheim for amnesty. Torben had his soldiers round up the refugees as slaves. He deserved no better than Uther."

Torben opened his mouth to say something, but Uther stopped him with a gesture. It seemed that Gaius was unspooling just enough rope for Dagmar to hang herself, and Uther wasn't about to get in the way.

"So you gave the record of the Great Purge to Sigrid, setting Balfonheim against Camelot. Then you switched the ceremonial swords to ensure the _ingrbrand_would be a deathmatch. Why?" Gaius's voice was calm, slow, almost hypnotic.

"A king couldn't care less if a thousand peasants die. It's like burning a beehive to them. All they care about is whether there's enough honey for the tea cakes. But just one dead princeling, and I knew they'd tear each other apart."

"What I don't understand is why you killed that beggar and the cook. What did they have to do with anything?"

"They recognized me. Those were necessary evils. I take no pleasure in their deaths."

Gaius looked at Uther and raised an eyebrow. Uther nodded and ordered the guards to take Dagmar to the dungeons.

"Uther Pendragon, Torben Ragnarson, everyone who helped them, and all those who stood by and did nothing - you are all guilty. You will all pay, one way or another!" Dagmar shouted as the guards dragged her away.

"It's been a long time, Gaius," said Uther. "But you still have the knack."

"Not long enough," Gaius replied sadly.

* * *

><p>Dagmar was executed by hanging the next day. Merlin and Gaius did not attend, but there was something on Merlin's mind that he could not ignore.<p>

"Gaius...can I ask you something?"

The older man's face closed as he braced himself for what was coming.

"Yes, Merlin. I performed interrogations for the king during the Great Purge."

"How could you do that? Didn't you see what was happening around you? I - I don't understand it. Please tell me he - he threatened you or something?"

"No. I did it of my own free will because I knew if I didn't, someone else would. I never coerced a confession. Never once did I put a noose around an innocent neck. That is more than can be said of Uther's other inquisitors."

"But still, you knew Uther was murdering innocents and you helped him!"

"It was a brutal time and we all did what we thought was right. You weren't there. You have no right to judge."

Merlin had never seen Gaius so angry. He stopped arguing, but he could not put it out of his mind.

* * *

><p>"Something troubling you, Merlin?" Arthur asked in his usual brisk way, as Merlin finished his daily chores.<p>

"So, what, nothing's troubling you?" Merlin tossed some bits of armor into a basket with a satisfying clang.

"I just prefer to keep my heart in my chest and not on my sleeve, that's all. Safer that way."

Of everyone he knew, Arthur was the only one Merlin felt sure would understand him. But, as Arthur never tired of reminding him, they were not friends. Arthur might interpret what he said as a personal attack. Or he might blow it off with a wisecrack.

"Gaius used to interrogate suspected sorcerers."

"Like a witch hunter?"

"Like he did yesterday with Dagmar."

"Ah, yes. I have to give him his due. That was incredible."

"'Incredible' is not the word. 'Nauseating,' maybe. He's not the man I thought he was."

Arthur watched Merlin for a moment, then motioned him to sit.

"Merlin, let me tell you a story. When I was first put in charge of the knights, I beat out a man we called Sir Jack. He was immensely popular, everybody's friend, you know the type?"

Merlin nodded impatiently, wondering where this was going.

"His fighting style was, in a word, wretched. Everything about it was wrong, from the footwork on up. He was so bad he endangered the others just by being there."

"I don't understand. You said you beat him for the position. Why would Uther even consider a man like that?"

"Because they - _we_, actually - fell all over ourselves to cover for his incompetence. It wasn't discussed, we just decided collectively to spare him the embarrassment."

"Now I know you're joking. _You _passed up an opportunity to tell someone they stink on ice?"

"We thought we were being good friends, honorable knights, all that. But when I became captain, I realized there was nothing kind about it. I spoke to him. Offered to train him specially. He just laughed and bought me a pint. We stayed friends until he got himself killed in battle."

Merlin scowled. "What on earth was the point of that story?"

"We all have flaws. If you care about someone, you owe it to them to try and see them as they are. It can be painful, but if you know your friend is weak on his backhand, well...you know which side to stand on, don't you?"

"That's a lovely sentiment, but it doesn't seem to have helped Sir Jack much."

"Which brings me to my second point: people are who they are. Gaius may never be what you consider properly contrite. He may continue doing things of which you do not approve, even things you find abhorrent. You can tell him what you think of him, but you can't live his life for him. The question before you is, can you accept that?"

* * *

><p>Awaiting the traditional funeral pyre, Sigrid's body was laid out on a stone slab, surrounded by roses. Moonlight illuminated the room, bluish light making her look paler than ever. As the clock struck midnight, Uther knelt before her.<p>

Suddenly it seemed very cold. He pulled his cloak around himself, shivering a little.

"I think you misunderstand the wedding night, Uther Pendragon. There is a difference between _la petite mort_ and just _mort_."

Uther whirled around. There stood a woman he did not know, dressed in shining armor and smiling mischievously. Her hair, flowing freely from underneath a winged helmet, was as red as the sunset.

"I am Eir," she said. "Perhaps you know the name."

Uther did. She was Torben's first wife, Sigrid's mother. "You've come for revenge."

"I am here to take Sigrid to the hall of the gods. She died bravely in battle, and is thereby granted the opportunity to become _Valkyrie_, as I did."

She moved over to her daughter, slid a hand under Sigrid's neck and removed a gold chain strung with a single pearl. As she held it up to the light, Uther could see that the pearl was filled with a roiling white mist.

"If it were my daughter," he said, "I would bring down the very firmament on the head of her killer."

"Then it is well that our positions are not reversed, for it seems many innocents would suffer for it." Eir clasped the chain around her own neck. She had a similar gem inset on a choker.

"That - that isn't what I meant."

She looked into his eyes thoughtfully. "Yes, I see. But you are the only one who can repent your sins. Whether you are punished for them is a separate matter."

Uther broke away from her searching gaze. "I can't second-guess myself, even for the best of reasons. If I show even a moment's weakness, the very foundation of my kingdom collapses."

"That is your choice. Do not mistake it for destiny."

Eir disappeared into the shadows, and Uther was left alone.

**The End**

**Author's notes: **The title of the final chapter means "character is destiny" or, as Shakespeare put it, "It is not in the stars to hold our destiny, but in ourselves." Despite all the talk about prophecy, I think this is one of the major themes of the show.

Uther isn't the most popular character on the show or with the fans, but he's my favorite. I see him as a man who feels he has to hide everything about himself that could be seen as weakness - his doubts, his fears, even his love for his children. He's at his best when he's dealing with the people he trusts most, because he shows his humanity. He's at his worst when he's afraid, because he is most closed off from others and even his own heart. Uther's ideal queen would need the purity to tell right from wrong, the courage to stand up to him when necessary, and the strength to quell his fears. Hence, a barbarian princess from the wild northlands.

Alert readers may have noticed the door is open for a sequel. ;-) Hope to see you there!


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